


in our bedroom after the war

by WonderBoy



Series: Growing Up Ain't What It Seems [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Reminiscing, Scars, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: Time doesn’t feel like its passing around them as Keith watches Lance watch their damaged armor. It feels as if they pressed pause on the rest of the world so they could spend the morning aligning themselves in their new reality.“We’ll need to do repairs before these are safe to be worn out again.” Lance says, looking back at Keith over his shoulder.“It can wait,” Keith says in reply. He’s not sure if Lance has forgotten, or hasn’t let it sink in yet, or was just looking for some kind of confirmation that everything wasn’t a dream, but Keith will give him whatever he needs. “It can wait.”





	in our bedroom after the war

**Author's Note:**

> Every few months I suddenly remember how desperately in love I am with "In Our Bedroom, After the War" by Stars and listen to it on repeat for like 3 days straight. I was supposed to be working on a commission when the latest reminder came and the minute I heard the first line, I pictured the opening scene of this fic and I had to write it immediately. Originally it was just going to be Keith and Lance in their bedroom, but then I started thinking about everyone else and it grew into a longer piece that makes me want to cry. 
> 
> I wrote 90-95% of this at about 2 or 3 in the morning and just re-read it before posting it this morning so if there are any mistakes I am sorry. If its a glaring one, please feel free to point it out.

_Wake up! Say good morning to that sleepy person lying next to you_  
_If there's no one there, then there's no one there, but at least the war is over_  
_It's us – yes, we're back again, here to see you through, 'til the days end_  
_And if the night comes, and the night will come, well at least the war is over_  
  
_Lift your head and look out the window_  
_Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go_  
_Listen! The birds sing! Listen! The bells ring!_  
_All the living are dead, and the dead are all living_  
_The war is over and we are beginning..._

* * *

There’s a scar that cuts just under Lance’s left eye, stopping above his lip, from when a particularly angry Galra tried to blind him and Lance moved out of the way at the last possible moment. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and the stubble darkens his jaw, aging him. His hair is shaved short except for the top of his head and his bangs brush over his forehead in a charming disarray.

One arm is shoved under his pillow, propping it higher while he sleeps. His other arm stretches out between them. The ring Keith, with Hunk’s help, made for him is snug on his ring finger as it has been since the day Keith gave it to him. A tattoo of a crashing wave wraps around his bicep, rising over his shoulder and dripping to a stop on his back. None of them were sure how alien tattoos would react to their human biology, but Lance was determined to get it done. After a bad fight, they were stranded on a new planet, drunk and mad and reckless. Keith can hardly remember the event, but he knows the tattoo like it has always been a part of Lance’s skin.

The sheet pooled around Lance’s hips is low enough to show off the worst scar his body boasts. The blast mark takes up most of his lower back, rising towards the middle of his back where it had done the most damage. Coran and Allura hadn’t been sure, at the time, if even the healing pods could help him walk again after he was hurt, left without care for weeks, and had still tried to move around with what was essentially a hole in his abdomen. That was the last time Keith ever let Lance do a solo mission. It was the last time anyone did a solo mission. There was too much risk.

Lance sighs in his sleep and rolls to his side. The blankets shift with him, and there’s a flash of the other side of the scar, high on his abdomen like a star. There’s a bandage over part of his chest, tied around his other shoulder to keep it in place while his latest injury heals. Keith had tried to talk him into a pod, but Lance had insisted there were others who needed their healing abilities more, including Keith himself, and he didn’t want to spend the night alone. So, the night before, they sat on their bed, in the dark of the castle, wrapping each other’s sprains and cleaning cuts, and making absolutely certain they were alive.

Keith isn’t sure how long he’s been awake by now, but artificial light streams through a panel on the wall. It’s not a real window, but something Pidge had devised ages ago that mimicked one. Keith didn’t particularly care what they looked out at, so Lance had programmed the ocean, and a sunny beach ushers in the morning. He can’t hear activity in the rest of the castle, but he’s sure at least Allura and Coran are up, checking on guests and prisoners alike.

He reaches out, brushing calloused fingers over his husband’s cheek. Dark blue eyes flutter open in an instant. None of them were very deep sleepers any more.

“Good morning, mullet.” Lance breathes in greeting, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Keith keeps his hand against Lance’s face, running his thumb over the ridges of his scar. He stares like he can’t quite believe Lance is real and there with him. Lance pulls his hand from the middle of the bed to lay it atop Keith’s own, lancing their fingers together. His skin is warm and the metal of his ring rough against Keith’s skin, but he doesn’t mind. It’s one of his favorite feelings. It grounds him. It makes things feel more real.

“How’s your shoulder?” Keith asks softly. He’s afraid to speak any louder and shatter the feeling that hangs in the air.

Lance shrugs. “Sore. How’s your leg?”

Keith glances down to the bandage wrapped from knee to hip. Red stains the cloth in scattered blotches. “Bleeding.”

Lance pulls Keith hand down to press a kiss to his palm. “Gross.”

Keith hums in agreement as Lance rolls out of bed. He pads silently across the room to their attached bathroom and Keith can hear the quiet sounds of Lance’s routine. When he returns, he stands in the middle of the room, unabashed with his nudity, as he surveys the armor they discarded to the side of the room the night before.

“We’ll need to do repairs before these are safe to be worn out again.” Lance says, looking back at Keith over his shoulder.

“It can wait,” Keith says in reply. He’s not sure if Lance has forgotten, or hasn’t let it sink in yet, or was just looking for some kind of confirmation that everything wasn’t a dream, but Keith will give him whatever he needs. “It can wait.” He says again.

Lance looks back at the armor, silent.

Time doesn’t feel like its passing around them as Keith watches Lance watch their damaged armor. It feels as if they pressed pause on the rest of the world so they could spend the morning aligning themselves in their new reality.

Lance turns to face Keith, silent. Climbs back into bed, silent. Stares at Keith, silent.

Blue eyes roam over Keith’s face, looking for something he can only hope is there.

“It can wait,” Lance finally says. His voice is unnaturally quiet, like he’s afraid the words will shatter the fragile newness of their situation.

He reaches out, and Keith goes willingly, letting Lance’s hands dance over his face, through his hair, and down his arms until their fingers can intertwine. Keith’s own ring fits into the slot of Lance’s hand as if it was always meant to be there.

There’s a purple bruise forming around Lance’s temple that was hidden in his pillow until now. There are tears swimming behind irises that sear Keith’s heart when they look at him the way they are looking at him now.

Lance leans down and presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead. To his nose. Lips caress his own, unfailingly soft despite the split down his lip that should make any contact unbearable. Lance’s breath stutters against his mouth right before he feels the trickle of Lance’s tears against his skin. His own tears might be mixed in after a few moments, but Lance doesn’t pull away far enough for him to tell. Not that Keith would let him go if he tried.

On the other side of the wall, they can hear Pidge begin moving around her room. Time starts again. Her voice is muffled so that they cannot make out her words, but as she speaks to someone it is obvious she is happy. She is crying. In the hall, someone stops in front of their door. They do not speak, but knocks twice, softly, and continues on their way.

Lance maneuvers them out of bed without letting go of Keith’s hand. They dress slowly, gingerly, wincing as they feel the soreness of overworked muscles they haven’t used in hours. By the time they make it out of their room, Pidge’s door is sliding open as she and Matt help their father through it. Her eyes are bloodshot when she turns to see them, but she smiles like they haven’t seen her smile before. She steps away from her family to hug them both. Lance presses a kiss to the top of her head as they part, and Keith can see his tears falling once again. Normally he, or Pidge, or both, would tease Lance for being so emotional, but Pidge just bumps his shoulder with a fond smile. Keith wipes one of the tears from his cheek, and earns a kiss from Lance and rolled eyes from Pidge for his trouble.

In the bridge, Shiro sits in his chair. He looks completely exhausted, but his coloring is better than it’s been in weeks. Something relaxes in Keith’s shoulders when he sees him, alive and well and physically with them, not a hallucination or video projection or clone. Shiro waves when they come in, a smile lighting up his face. His other hand, reaches up to grasp Allura’s hand on his shoulder. Every few minutes he squeezes her hand softly in reassurance and there’s a hiccup of surprise and relief in her voice as she talks with Hunk and Coran. Lance pulls Keith with him as he goes to Hunk, but Keith drops his hand so that the two can hug. A moment later, Hunk pulls him into the embrace too. Keith’s fist tightens in Hunk’s shirt, savoring the moment and what it means. Lance laughs wetly as Hunk sniffles and finally releases them. He’s obviously been crying but he doesn’t bother to hide it or wipe his face, he just keeps smiling. He goes to Pidge next, lifting her in the air with the force of his hug.

They’ve pulled up another chair for Samuel Holt, and he and Shiro speak in hushed voices, reassuring themselves that the other is okay.

Coran has a hand on Allura and Hunk’s shoulders as he watches over the group with an unwavering fondness in his eyes. He looks younger than Keith has ever seen him, a weight lifted from his shoulders for the first time in ten thousand years. Allura, too, looks revived, a sparkle in her eyes brilliant and new. Coran catches Keith watching the group and shares a conspiratorial wink, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Keith pulls Lance closer to him, suddenly wanting the support of another body beside him. Lance molds himself to Keith’s side. His uninjured arm wraps around Keith’s shoulder. The image of the universe’s different galaxies float over their heads. When Coran clears his throat, Keith reaches up for Lance’s hand. Lance squeezes back.

With everyone’s attention, Coran glances up to the twinkling stars. Just to the left, Keith can see the projection of the Milky Way blinking above them, like a beacon calling to them.

“Paladins,” Coran says, looking around them room at each of them, carefully cataloguing everyone’s face, everyone’s expression in the moment. “How would you like to go home?”

* * *

_We won, or we think we did, when you went away, you were just a kid_  
_And if you lost it all, and you lost it, we will still be there when the war is over_  
  
_Here it comes! Here comes the first day! Here it comes! Here comes the first day!_  
_It starts up in our bedroom after the war_  
_After the war! After the war..._

_-In Our Bedroom, After the War; Stars_

**Author's Note:**

> I realized as I was writing this that it could technically be a prequel piece to Learning Curve but that's mostly just because I picture them coming back to space/the Castle-ship/the lions even after the war and they had an established relationship in Learning Curve as well, but anyhow if you enjoyed this and you enjoy accidental baby acquisition fics, that might be something that interests you ;D 
> 
> Come yell at me, request new things, or just stalk the progress of other fics on tumblr @ thathopelessromantic.tumblr.com


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